


Don't Stop

by Fish_on_the_tree



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Gen, Headcanon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-27 16:42:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10033601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fish_on_the_tree/pseuds/Fish_on_the_tree
Summary: Rufus is recovering after the attack of the Diamond Weapon or a version of what might have happened.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was edited by Bjanik who owns my eternal gratitude for it.
> 
> I made this as a birthday present for my friend who first introduced me to this fandom, basically around her headcanon of the events. It made her happy which made me happy and now I hope I can share the happiness :) The title is, well, let's say it's better than the working title was >.>

Darkness.

Timeless, endless drifting in darkness without any senses. Sometimes the memory of fire breaks it up and life is reduced to mere physical pain, the burning pain of rasping breaths.

Then the darkness comes again.

Sometimes it's like having nightmares. Images haunt him, seen strangely from above as if he's afloat without a body and looking down on the terrible destruction below him, an earthquake maybe, the opened earth swallows buildings, dust rises. Green lights explode in every direction, painting the clouded sky in an unnatural hue. The sky is dominated by a blazing globe of molten stone. Smoke and fire. He is afraid and looks up to a huge, broad back but the man doesn't turn to him, doesn't lift him up and soothe the panic. He is surrounded by flames unfolding like petals and everything is drowned in pain.

Beside the darkness and the pain there is also the lingering sense of urgency, painting this strange non-life with the notion of time. He has to do something, something he left unfinished, something urgent, crucial, more important than anything else, and he has to do it quickly before it's too late, but what is time? The darkness proves stronger, it engulfs the urgency too.

Sometimes he's surrounded by a soft green light, inviting, pulsing. Calmness. Appropriateness. It'd be good to stay.

_Rufus Shinra._

* * *

 

He opened his eyes with the last stroke of urgency. White ceiling with dim fluorescent lighting. He drew his eyebrows together; where was he? He lay on his back, in an unfamiliar bed, the uncomfortable construction making his neck hurt. A hospital. Had he been injured? Hundreds of bells clanged in his head and his trachea felt dryer than the Corel Desert at noon, but apart from that he didn't feel anything wrong. Who had called him before? It was like a young woman's voice, or maybe his mother's. No, not one voice but a whole crowd had said his name in a soft, calm tone.

He sensed that somebody was near him. He turned his head and for a second his eyes showed the honest joy he felt at the sight. Tseng! He was a bit pale and stiff on the chair, but alive and up. When he last had seen him the man was on an ICU bed, having severely bled out from a sword slash starting on his left shoulder to his right hip. He remembered that he had stood motionless at the bed as the doctor, clearly intimidated in his presence, had stuttered some apology – t _hey had done everything science and materia can do, it's time that decides, and whether the patient has enough will to live_ – he remembered the helpless anger.

"How long ha"How long have I been here?" He asked. His voice was merely a hoarse whisper, unfamiliar to his ears.

"Five days," arrived the answer. Tseng didn't even bat an eyelid now that his superior had regained consciousness.

"What happened?"

"The last attack of Diamond WEAPON destroyed HQ. You were caught under the rubble, but we managed the rescue and provide medical care on time. AVALANCHE battled with Sephiroth, defeated and annihilated the creature he had become. Meteor was stopped by the Cetra's spell and," Tseng made an uncharacteristic halt. He took a deep breath and continued.

"The Planet took the issue in its own hand, and the mako... the Lifestream took physical form, and emerged to stop Meteor which would've killed us all."

Tseng fell silent. An uncomfortable feeling grew in Rufus' stomach. The Planet had saved them? He put that thought aside as something to be concerned with later. Now he had work to do.

"What about the Shin-Ra resources?"

"Of the Board, only Director Tuesti survived. Veld… he disappeared, and several other Turks too. From us Rude, Reno and Elena are available and ready for orders. The great majority of the military force was destroyed in the resultant explosion when Meteor was stopped and the subsequent chaos. The surviving population of Midgar fled to other cities or is trying to find shelter in the edge of the ruins. From the preliminary estimations 40% of the populace perished and 85% of the city area is uninhabitable. Since the eruption of the Lifestream, data coming from all the remaining reactors indicates that the level of mako is 0.8% of previous levels and extraction is not feasible."

Rufus stayed silent for a few minutes, considering the implications. His empire and city was in ruins but some of his most trusted men remained. He faced a hard time rebuilding the Shin-Ra Company but the threat of Sephiroth and Meteor had been removed and probably AVALANCHE would lie low for a while after the struggle. The conditions weren't favorable, but it could've been worse.

"We have much to do," Rufus said with the hint of a smile, "to tidy things up. Tseng, first inform Reeve-" He decided sitting up was a good idea as he had had enough time to lie around in the previous days. He rose but feebly fell back to the bed. Below his waist his muscles didn't obey no matter how he tried to make them move. He looked at Tseng and forced his voice not to betray any emotion.

"What happened to me?"

"The superficial injuries caused by the fire were successfully cured with materia. The medics couldn't do anything with the effect of the inhaled smoke but they don't expect permanent damage," Tseng's voice remained professional. "They also cured the broken bones but the damage of the nerves proved to be too severe."

"I feel my legs. But they won't move." Despite his mastered control, a hint of panic started to seep into Rufus's hoarse voice.

"The proprioceptive pathways remained intact. Only the motor pathways are damaged." Pause. Finally some emotion flashed in Tseng's eyes. "According to the doctors complete recovery is plausible. Surgeries, more Cure spells are needed. Special exercises."

Rufus stared unblinking at Tseng but his eyes were focused at some picture only seen by him. The small muscles around his eyes trembled a little. He tried again and again to sit up, to turn aside, to support his weight on his waist but all his attempts failed. His breath became laborious as his damaged lungs weren't up to the effort. Tseng reached toward him, worried, and Rufus looked straight at him at last. His eyes showed devastating, primary terror that made even the collected Turk's stomach clench.

"Tseng..." Rufus's whisper was like a frightened child's.

The Turk leaned closer to his boss who grabbed his arm with a desperate force. Driven by a sudden impulse Tseng drew Rufus's head close, carefully supporting his back and holding him as much as he was able to do in that contorted posture. He recalled comforting the man the same way as a child – when he had cried after his mother, after assassination attempts, when his father had forgotten about his existence in favor of the Company. It was said that no one had ever seen him bleed or cry; he – and only he – had seen enough of both. Seeing the ruthlessness of the man it was easy to forget that although he was the head of the company that practically ruled the world he was only a 23 year old who had been nominated as Vice President from the age of five, a target of constant assassinations. That he grew up without a mother and that his father spoiled and ignored him at the same time. That he was just human.

So Tseng held Rufus while he shook with the hard sobs that strained his damaged trachea, until worn-out, he finally fell asleep. Tseng stayed beside his bed for a long time, holding his hand.

* * *

 

White ceiling with dim fluorescent lights. He hadn't done anything in the last two days just lay there watching the white ceiling. Nothing disturbed him in his thoughts. His Turks guarded the door, keeping safe a boss who a great percent of the population would most likely want to see dead. Actually, it wouldn't really have mattered to Rufus if some vengeful survivor did get in. Kill him or no, either way the Shin-Ra was finished. Midgar was finished. And he lay here hidden in the far end of some more or less intact hospital, and if he ever wanted to leave this room he could only do that in the wheelchair standing in the corner. He glanced at the metal monstrosity and turned back to the ceiling. White ceiling with small cracks and dim fluorescent lights. Let come whoever wanted. It didn't matter.

Days went by and no matter how much he wanted to turn his mind off and think nothing, Rufus Shinra couldn't turn himself inside out. Memories arose from the back of his mind, first uninvited but soon he decided that if he was already confined to this bed and everything had fallen apart around him, why not immerse himself in his memories? First he recalled them randomly but soon his mind got into the task of organizing the past, systematically going through everything that had happened, everything he had done. To judge and reflect. Before, he wouldn't even have thought about doing this but now in this broken world it no longer mattered who he was. He was no one and nothing but a point in existence; he no longer held the strings, no longer decided the fate of others.

_Rufus Shinra._

He startled out of sleep with his heart beating fast. He clearly heard somebody calling his name, multitude of voices combined into one. It was dawn, the sky was already pale through the window but the hospital room was calm, empty, nothing broke its nighttime silence. Who called? The dream came to his mind he had seen while unconscious. Green, gently caressing lights, and peace. The Lifestream. He didn't know why but he was certain that he saw the Lifestream in his dream and the Planet spoke to him. How and why? He was no Cetra. He listened inward, tried to sort out the elusive impressions and find what the Planet wanted from him. _Deeds_. He needed to do something? He didn't understand. _Redemption_. All right, that's clearer as the ruminations of the past days made him realize he owed the Planet a lot. _Responsibility_. Suddenly he understood. The Planet didn't want suffering, didn't want revenge, didn't want guilt. Only repentance and atonement. Taking responsibility. Correcting the errors of the past.

He took a deep breath. The air felt strangely clean and light in his healed lungs. As though he breathed the air of a new life. The idea brought a lightly ironic smile to his lips but somewhere deep inside, he found it romantic all the same.

In front of his door the Turk in turn silently stirred.

Two weeks after Meteor a clear sky dawned above Midgar.


End file.
